‘Crawl Back’

‘Crawl Back’

You really should stop responding to my messages. I should stop responding to yours. It’s difficult because it isn’t going to come to any conclusion. Like we’re both holding hands at the cinema but leave before the third act.

I wonder if she thinks about what could’ve happened, what could’ve been. How many times we could’ve gotten arrested. How many times we’d cheers a drink to a cold night inside.

I don’t even want it is the funny thing.

I don’t even want it, which makes it weird because I think about why I still think about it, about you. I could call you every name under the sun and you’d still only answer to one.

There are a lot of bats in here, in this cave that I’ve been squatting in.

I don’t really want it because if I did, then why aren’t I doing anything about it?

Why am I still sat here in my Star Wars underwear with a fridge full of beer but I’m already drunk off of my vulnerability.

Maybe it’s just nice to think about, like Paris. People always say Paris is the city of love and all that. But it might be a different story if you go, kind of like love. There’s cigarette smoke, there’s rats, people are rude and you spend a lot of time drinking. Depending on how you feel about love, any of those things could be positive or negative I guess.

So each night, only when I’m alone, I’ll retreat back to my cave and wank and think and dream and drink and consider what could’ve been. Maybe I’m happy now but I’m not the one to judge.

None of this is really up to me anymore.

I put myself out there to crawl back and it all leads me to a simple conclusion. Love is the only reason I ever feel uncomfortable.

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